Saanjh

In life, since I was a kid, I've been to many Sikh camps, retreats, seminars and myriad other events. Some places, I learnt a lot about Sikhi and got a deeper understanding of philosophies; some for me were more like reviews and spun my thoughts to some new projects or topics to explore and undertake. Some, as it is with all things, were disappointing but I can't say I didn't learn something there as well. When at the age of 17, I moved to California, having quite a bit of time on my hands as only a high school student and not much to worry about, I got to explore quite a few of the local Sikh retreats and events. Of them all, although most were wonderful, the one I've made a yearly tradition of attending is Saanjh

The first thing you get to do at Saanjh - Ice breakers!

Now, Saanjh is 18 and up, mainly because it requires certain amount of understanding and maturity to be an active participant in discussion and fully understand and explore the topics on hand. I attended as the youngest participant at Saanjh my first year—and my theory is because Waheguru really wanted me to go.
Although in my head it is mingled that the first Saanjh I happened to attend was the first summer I was in California, that's got little to do with why Saanjh's the one retreat I try and make time for every year. Why I do go every year is because Saanjh was the first Sikh retreat of my life, to give me peace. Although it's generally a good assumption that nature has to do with my inner peace and Saanjh being in middle of forest is the reason; but in this case, it's nothing to do with location at all. I was a teenager, and like all teenagers, we could say I was in a somewhat rebellious phase. Only that my rebellion had to do with an inner confusion over how could so many Sikhs not talk about 1984, and discuss it. How could that be a taboo subject and how could everyone my age around me know so little about Sikhi beyond some very basic factual history and almost nothing of Sikh philosophy. It hurt more because I grew up in Punjab. It hurt even more because I saw the parents who'd in their youth been proud Sikhs, even activists, trying to keep the kids away from becoming too involved in Sikhi. Parents felt nervous seeing their kids do anything more than adhere to their physical Sikh appearance, or at most, do their nitnem. The nit-activity of a Sikh, through action and dialogue, was not nourished at all.

One of the workshops - Conversation with self.

To feel so deeply about things, to care so much, and to want to do more than you can to rectify things; and then to find out that many in your community seem to not even wanna talk about it… for a person filled with hope it’s rather a hard blow to take.
Idealism and naivety is what I was told. That I'd grow out of the phase and learn the social ways. Now I am me, and I was raised in a home where nothing was out of limits for discussion, by parents who decided matters based on understanding and logic. All the “-isms” of the world that I encountered were irrelevant and just obstacles to be dealt with and although none of it ever wavered my hope, I'd long before given up on meeting people who wanted to do all they could as Sikhs, for humanity. 
Saanjh was the place that gave me that hope again. It was where not just '84 was discussed and explained but also done so with an eye on the present and future. The idea of “2084” was introduced: where does the community see itself 100 years after a watershed event? More importantly, we didn’t just discuss visions for a weekend and then go back to the 'normal' life. We discussed to establish impactful seva projects, discussion groups, and strategies for our everyday lives that would help us all here in the U.S. and  Punjab move out of  present psyche of depression and fear. I've always despised deep discussion that end with no change, so moving towards change and a better one, was a pleasant surprise!

Evening dewan in kudrat's sangat

I could give you many more reasons to go Saanjh. This year’s facilitators include artists, writers, poets, activists, and leaders of all hues—and non-Sikh superstars like Angela Harris; Saanjh every year has a workshop in solidarity with a “non-Sikh” issue and/or activist.
No matter if you know a little about Sikhi or a lot, you'll find stimulating conversations and a purposefulness to them. You will meet people who will inspire you, give you hope, and share yours with the same sort of Sikhi spirit that one might envision in a darbar happening in Guru Gobind Singh's presence. That feeling, is why I make time to go every year, no matter how busy I am. The fact that it's not too far, in Santa Cruz, CA, is tremendous plus. But even if you don't live in Cali, see if you can find enough time to make it over. You won't regret it.